


verbena

by catravandece



Category: The Watchmaker of Filigree Street - Natasha Pulley
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 10:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catravandece/pseuds/catravandece
Summary: Thaniel wonders, Mori answers."You need a bath."





	verbena

Knocking on the bathroom door feels like deja vu. The last time Thaniel had done this he’d been focusing all his mental energy on lack of intent, wondering if Mori already knew his duplicity. What he does now is an afterthought, rapping the backs of his knuckles against the dark wood. It’d only been two days since Mori was able to climb the stairs, and for that he’d gripped Thaniel’s arm with clawed hands for every short step. 

“Yes?”

“Are you alright in there?” Thaniel asked. 

“Obviously.” Mori huffed. Though he couldn’t see it Thaniel knew it was a lilac sound. 

He only hesitates for a second before opening the door and walking inside. Propriety was like an irate cat at his heels occasionally swiping across his trouser leg. He’d shirked his upbringing of stuffy English sensibilities before, and would continue to do so where Mori was concerned. The bathroom is cloyingly warm, full of weak steam. Mori reclines in the claw foot tub with his arms and head hanging over the edge of the porcelain. He reminds Thaniel of Katsu when the octopus used to laze across the shop steps sunbathing. Except the sight of him doesn't inspire Thaniel to gingerly side step around the tub. Mori’s wounds stand out as vivid red lines, though they no longer bleed through the scabs. 

“You know, you can trust I won’t lie about my health. Anymore.” 

“Not your health I’m checking on,” Thaniel lies. “The grey towel is dry. I thought you might like having it.” They use different soaps for bathing and laundry, but the grey towel always smelled just a little bit like lemon. Mori had tried to switch his hair soap once. He only used the lemon because it masked the smell of the peroxide he lightened his hair with. Luckily for Thaniel, after a full day of shopping, they found that nothing else was strong enough to do the job. Mori nods and Thaniel steps over to set the towel on their cabinet. As he walks past to leave, Mori reaches out to snag a finger in Thaniel’s braces. 

“You need a bath.” He said. 

“I can take one later?” 

“I’d rather not run the water twice. This one is still warm.” 

Thaniel raises an eyebrow. He intends to refuse again and keep walking toward the door, to which Mori responds by tightening his grip and looking at Thaniel with completely unfair use of bedroom eyes. Thaniel sighs and starts undoing his cuffs, which seems to be enough for Mori not to pull him into the water. He yawns and keeps his hand exactly where it is until Thaniel moves it to get at the falls of his trousers. 

“Take your shoes off first at least.” 

Orders followed, Thaniel pokes Mori to budge up so he can slip into the water behind him. Mori resettles against Thaniel’s chest. The tub is long enough for Thaniel to recline a bit if he bends his knees. The water came up almost over Mori’s shoulders from the displacement of Thaniel’s weight. He used to think of Mori as something fragile- A wind-up man or one of his delicate clockwork birds, but he’s more like Katsu. Unpredictable. Heavier than expected. Alway warm. Like this he couldn’t help but remember his wedding night. It was Thaniel who’d taken Mori by the hand, led him away from the landing into the bedroom, not caring which room it was as long as the door closed. He’d shrunk his world down first to that enclosed space, shuttered from the eyes of the world. Then Mori stepped into the circle of his arms and all of Thaniel’s mind became gold breaths and deep burgundy sighs. 

What kind of tea do you drink in the dark?

Grace had rattled him- one more instance in a line of shocking disturbances to his quiet old life. But Thaniel had faced worse and stayed true to English tenacity. Out of every possible future the present past had led them to one where he could feel as if his spirit fit his body properly once more. A rusted gear removed, cleaned and clicked back into place. Mori sighs and squishes himself back against Thaniel. Thaniel traces the line of a surgical wound on his collarbone. Since coming home he’d taken every opportunity to touch Mori- if they drifted apart during the day he’d make an excuse to come closer. He was more or less immune to Mori’s knowing looks by now. Thaniel reached out to pick up a plain lacquered cup from the floor and start wetting Mori’s hair. 

“How likely was this future?” 

Mori tipped his head back- let the water plaster his hair flat. “Quite likely. You didn’t have anything better to do at the moment.” 

Thaniel spends a few moments intending to dig his fingers into Mori’s side where he knows the man is ticklish. “You know what I mean.”

“Not entirely impossible,” he says. 

“If it were impossible you wouldn’t have remembered it.”

“You and I- they’re the only futures I actively encouraged. I didn’t change anything that would affect how close we became, would’ve been bad form otherwise. Everything else I left to chance.” Mori looks over his shoulder, locks eyes with Thaniel. “You ended up quite tenaciously herding us toward this outcome.”

“Was there a future where I died in the Yard bomb?” Thaniel set the bowl aside in exchange for a bar of lemon soap. In just a few months he's become unable to associate the smell with feelings and memories wholly inappropriate for polite conduct. Previously relaxed, Mori twitches his fingers just the faintest bit. 

“The only reason I remembered that future is because I wrote it down. I’d forgotten it after making your watch.” He’d make it impossible, Thaniel thought. Grace had been stricken with the fear that Mori would kill her for changing the future. In truth, it was Thaniel who’d changed it. This close, the scent of lemon is almost overpowering. It turns Mori’s hair to a brighter yellow- less like the desaturated blonde of peroxide. Thaniel tries to keep from negotiating with his thoughts while rinsing the soap out of Mori’s hair. 

“I promise.” 

“I didn’t intend anything.” 

‘No, but I can guess where your thoughts are going.” Mori pauses. “I was happy with the likely chance that you would stay in my life as a dear friend. This… is something I only came to hope for long after our paths first crossed. I’m a selfish man Thaniel. There’s going to be an amendment next year. There are a few possibilities that things might become more difficult for us. But with your permission I’ll do whatever I can to subvert those futures.” 

Thaniel smiles- threads his fingers through Mori's hand and gently kisses his temple. “Just don’t throw a train at anyone.” 

In response, Mori hooks their pinkies together and bounces them along to a tune Thaniel vaguely recognizes as a children’s promise rhyme. 

_ “Yubikiri genman, uso tsuitara hari sen bon nomasu.”  _

**Author's Note:**

> I'm struggling to write much of anything these days. Wanted to make this longer but more plot just didn't come to me. I will never not include lemon soap as a metaphor for sexual tension


End file.
